


So Good That I'm So Bad

by kittenofdoomage



Series: SPN Kink Bingo [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blow Job, Dark fic, F/M, FaceFucking, Humiliation, Oral, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Soulless!Sam, Squirting, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017Square filled: Blowjob





	So Good That I'm So Bad

The tension had been simmering away between you for months now, but you hadn’t dared to say anything to destabilize the delicate atmosphere. Case after case came up, and with Dean quietly living the apple pie life, and your orders to stay away, you’d remained with Sam out of necessity only. Of course, Sam wasn’t who he used to be; he was nothing like the comforting, warm Winchester you’d been friends with for so long.

It was inevitable that the levee would break and you’d end up sleeping together. Not that you’d call it sleeping. Sam used you like a convenience, plain and simple, and while you didn’t mind the release - because he was a fucking good lay - the way he treated you like a callous after-thought was beginning to grate on you.

Nearly a year to the day since he’d sought you out, since you’d thought him dead and Dean had left to honor his promise, you’d been on a case with the Campbells. Samuel had ordered them away to another hunt, leaving you and Sam to do the clean up on a vampire stalking victims in a club. It was down to you to be the bait, and the skimpy black dress you had on was riding up your thighs uncomfortably, meaning you couldn’t get away with wearing your favorite panties - Minnie Mouse girl boxers didn’t really go with the club etiquette. 

Adding the skimpy dress to the heels you’d had to borrow from Gwen, and the exceptional amount of makeup you weren’t used to wearing, the other woman had helped get your hair into a high ponytail, which sat on your head and painfully tugged at the base of your skull. Fashion sucked. In so many ways.

Not least of all, the way Sam stared at you like you were a piece of meat. You’d agreed to go into the club separately, because he was a lumbering influence on anyone around him, and you had to appear alone and vulnerable. Playing drunk was easy, and sixty minutes into the charade, you were stumbling around the dancefloor with a bunch of girls you’d made sort of made friends with. The heels were still difficult to navigate, and you were wondering where Sam had gotten to, when strong arms suddenly surrounded you from behind.

“Don’t freak out,” came the rumbled voice, only just audible over the sounds of the bass line thumping through the club. It was Sam, and you instantly felt the burgeoning erection in his dress pants pressing into your ass through the thin material of your dress. “Been watching you act like a slut. Fuckin’ turns me on, you know that?”

“Sam…” you whispered, not even sure if he’d hear you. “We’re supposed to be working the case.”

“Don’t care,” he said, his hand sliding around your hips, down your belly to the front of your dress. It was dark enough in the club, and crowded enough on the dancefloor, that no one noticed the way his fingers pressed into the material, finding the crease of your womanhood through your dress. A gasp left your lips as he applied just enough pressure to your clit to send a frisson of excitement pulsing through your nerves. “I wanna fuck you,” Sam growled. “Right now.”

For a moment, you thought he might actually fuck you right there, on the dancefloor, in front of everyone, but then he tugged you backwards. His fingers slipped between yours, practically dragging you through the crowd to the restroom. Avoiding the ladies, where there would inevitably be a gaggle of women around the mirror, he took you into the men’s, pushing you through the deserted main area, past the urinals and into the further stall from the door.

No sooner than the stall was locked, Sam had you up against the filthy tiled wall, his hands pulling at your dress. You were only wearing a black cotton thong, but it was enough to make him groan as he looked down at you. “So fucking hot,” he growled, palming his erection through his pants. “Wanna feel that tight little cunt around my dick.”

“Sam!” The call of his name was supposed to be scolding - you weren’t a common whore, although Sam seemed to think you were. But, as you said it, he pressed his entire body against you, and it sounded more like a breathy moan than anywhere near the harsh tone you’d wanted.

His hands didn’t seem to know where to stop. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them almost painfully, grinding his hips into you, his cock rubbing against your belly through his pants. When his mouth covered yours, you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders, wanting more, despite your initial irritation.

One large hand grabbed hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head against the wall, and Sam grinned, using his other hand to pull your dress up, bunching it around your waist, before literally ripping your panties away. You cried out, the loud music covering the sound, even in the restroom, and Sam laughed at the reaction.

“Want my cock, Y/N?” he asked, although it didn’t sound like he cared if you did or not. A flash of fear had you thinking that he might not stop if you said no, but arousal was soaking your brain, and you realized that you wouldn’t say no - you didn’t have it in you to pass up anything with Sam. He watched your face, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your thighs. “Look at that,” he purred, smirking. “You could never turn me down, could you, baby?”

You shook your head, gasping as his fingers pressed against your cunt, teasing the swollen nub of your clit. Trying to form coherent words at this point was beyond you.

Sam’s fingers moved faster against you, and you instantly obeyed as his knee shoved between your thighs, making you spread your legs. The better access made him push his fingers through your folds, his thumb taking up the pressure on your clit as he slid two thick digits into your already wet pussy. It was a stretch and you hissed as he buried them inside you to the knuckle.

“Such a dirty little whore,” he snarled, nipping along your jaw as you raised your chin, pressing the crown of your scalp into the wall, the high ponytail digging into your skull. “Look how wet you are already.” He snatched his hand free, bringing the evidence of your arousal up to your face. His fingers grazed your lips, and your jaw dropped, allowing him to push your own taste into your mouth. The groan he made at the sight made you clench in need. “Wanna be inside you,” Sam grunted, dropping his hand from your face to unbuckle his pants. His cock sprang from from its confines as he pushed his slacks and boxers down, letting them bunch around his knees.

You shrieked in surprise as he released your hands, twisting you around and pressing your face into the tiled wall. It was cold and slightly sticky, but you ceased to care, bracing your hands against the hard surface as Sam positioned you exactly where he wanted you; legs apart, against the wall, your pussy exposed and back dipped to push your ass outwards.

“Look at that.” One long finger traced the outline of your swollen lips, making you mewl with need. “Made for my cock, aren’t you?” He gripped his cock with one hand, rubbing the tip against you, and you instinctively pushed back, seeking more friction, gaining a chuckle from him. His hand jerked his cock upwards, resting it against the crack of your ass, pressing lightly against the tight ring of muscle there. You tensed - it wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken your ass, but he wasn’t going to do it dry, surely? “Oh, don’t worry, baby. Wouldn’t wanna break you.”

You couldn’t relax with the head of his dick rimming your hole like that, and your muscles locked as he kept himself against you there, groaning as he thrust a little, not enough to push through, but enough to let it be know he was  _ there _ .

Too many moments later, he let his cock dip down into your cunt, and you exhaled the breath you’d been holding, only to squeal as he started to penetrate you, his thick girth stretching you, filling you even more in the awkward position. Sam was over a foot taller than you, and he was having to bend his knees to fuck you like this, not that he seemed to care. He took an eternity to finally fill you, his balls tickling your clit and his cockhead pressing painfully into the entrance of your womb, and you felt his hands settle on your hips. Your fingers clawed against the tiled wall and you whimpered, unsure if it was from discomfort or need.

“Want me to fuck you?” Sam gasped, his body literally shaking from holding back. “Want me to take you like the dirty little cockslut you are?”

His words were filthy adrenaline to your core, and you nodded, biting your bottom lip so hard that you thought you might draw blood. Normally, Sam would want a verbal response - he’d never disguised that he loved you begging him for it, but tonight, he seemed a little more impatient than usual.

Without even taking the time to let you adjust, he drew back his hips, leaving only half an inch of his dick inside you, before slamming back in, over and over. His lower body twisted as he fucked you, and you couldn’t help but scream in a combination of pleasure and pain, the force and width of his cock more intense than you would normally be able to take. Sam didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, but then, you didn’t make any indication that you weren’t enjoying it.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his voice gritty and strained. He moved one hand as you nodded, tears leaving your eyes at the force of his thrusts, and you felt him roughly grab your dress, tearing it down one side to expose your breast. You’d forgone a bra with the dress, unable to make it look right, and Sam seemed entirely pleased as he pinched your nipple roughly. “Come all over my dick, whore.”

You cried out, pinned between his hulking frame and the wall, unable to move against him, unable to hold back the tide of pleasure gushing between your thighs. Your walls flexed and clenched around him, and his hand tightened around your breast, leaving bruises on the delicate skin as he railed you over and over. “Sam!” The high pitched scream accompanied your climax, and liquid drenched your cunt, splashing over Sam’s balls and down his legs. He laughed loudly with delight, before pulling out entirely.

Your legs couldn’t take your weight with how badly they were shaking, and you slumped to the floor, uncaring of how dirty it was. Sam watched you for a moment, pumping his slick cock, covered with your juices. “Fuck, baby. Look how much you came!” You managed to raise your eyes to him, seeing him smirking widely. “Get on your knees. Wanna fuck your mouth.”

There was hesitation on your part, and he narrowed his eyes. For a second, you considered saying no, but you were still horny, despite the orgasm you’d just had, and you honestly enjoyed sucking Sam’s big dick.

“Come on,” he urged, offering you his cock. “You wanna stop?” he asked, pausing in his strokes. There was no disappointment there, no anger, just a simple question, and you knew that despite his apparent lack of morality, he wouldn’t force you to do anything. As he moved to tuck his cock away, you lurched up onto your knees, shaking your head.

“No,” you said, quietly, barely audible over the music. “Sorry, I got a bit light-headed.”

“You sure?” he asked, but there was no compassion in his expression. This was nothing to him, like it was supposed to be nothing to you, and it took a metric ton of force to push those emotions down. You nodded your head, offering him a smile as you slipped your hand around the base of his cock.

What a mess you’d gotten yourself into.

Sam grunted as you flicked your tongue over the head of his shaft, teasing him with kitten licks, before locking your lips around his crown, sucking lightly. His hand cupped the back of your head, and you willed him to hold your ponytail - you were a sucker for hair pulling, just like he was. It was like he’d read your mind, his fingers slowly surrounding the thick mass of your hair, gripping it tightly enough to make your eyes water.

“Can I fuck your mouth?” he asked, more out of routine than being nice in any way. You nodded, rolling your eyes upwards to look at him, feeling the strain in the back of the sockets at the move. Sam grinned, before dipping his hips, feeding more of his cock between your lips. “God, your mouth is almost as good as your pussy,” he groaned.

You didn’t reply, focusing all of your energy in willing your gag reflex down, just as the tip of his length bumped against the back of your throat. It was difficult to relax, to allow him to push in further, letting him slide down your throat to the point that his pubic hairs tickled your nose, but the sound he made was worth it.

He started to pick up momentum, using his other hand to hold your jaw, his thick fingers gliding down to feel where his cock bulged your throat out, and you closed your eyes, the hold on your control slipping. Mascara was staining your cheeks, and your exposed breasts bounced against your ruined dress as he fucked your mouth, the taste of precum staining your tongue.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped, and you made a noise around him, preparing yourself to swallow his load. At the last moment ,as his cock twitched and pulsated, he pulled away, leaving you gasping at the sudden intake of air. A split second gave you enough time to realise what he was doing, holding you with one hand while he splattered come over your face and chest.

It dripped down your cheeks, mixing with your ruined makeup, standing out on the black fabric of the now useless dress, and Sam chuckled at the sight of you, releasing your hair. You fell back against the wall, used up and shocked at his actions, while he simply stood there tucking himself back into his boxers, looking like nothing had happened.

“God, wish I had a camera,” he said, smirking like it was the funniest thing ever. “Oh wait -” He pulled his phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of you with your mouth agape and eyes smeared with black makeup and come, shock evident on your face. “Beautiful. That one’s a keeper.” He bent down, motioning to the grimy looking toilet paper hanging from the wall. “Clean yourself up, and I’ll see you back at the motel. Already took care of the vamp on the way in, but couldn’t pass up a chance to fuck you in that delectable outfit.” One finger traced the outline of your free breast, the smirk widening on his twisted lips. “Ruined now, but it did the job.”

Sam stood straight, and you felt like you were going to cry. This was not Sam. This wasn’t the friend you’d once had, and whatever was going on between you had just escalated out of control. There was no way you could get out of here unseen, in this shambles, used up like a common prostitute, and shame swam through you, making you want to be sick.

The door to the cubicle clicked shut, and you realized he was gone. He’d probably head back to the motel, or god forbid, go and pick up some other chick to fuck. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time.

You couldn’t stay with him any more. Whatever it was between you was destructive and leaving you dying inside. Sam didn’t care. He couldn’t. Something in him was broken, but you couldn’t fix it. There was nothing left for you.

Climbing onto shaky legs, you ditched the heels, not caring what Gwen said about it. You rearranged the dress, wiping the come from it as best you could, before cleaning your face, releasing your hair from the ponytail so you could hide behind it as you made your escape. Shame darkened your cheeks when you slipped from the bathroom, catching a quick glimpse of Sam with some busty brunette at the bar.

He didn’t, or couldn’t, care. 

You had to leave. Staying because he was good in bed, because you had no one else, was no longer a good enough reason to stick around.

By the time Sam returned to the motel room that night, flushed from fucking the girl he’d picked up against a wall in the alleyway, he’d wanted nothing more than to have your mouth on his cock again. He sauntered into the room, flicking the light on and expecting to find you in bed already, possibly waiting for him. He was sure you’d have forgiven him for the game earlier - you’d never seemed bothered about his rough ways before.

When he found the room empty and void of your belongings, he frowned. There was no note, nothing to say where you’d gone. Tracking the GPS on your phone didn’t work, and it seemed like you’d vanished off the face of the planet.

Maybe he’d really pissed you off this time.

Maybe you’d really left.

He shrugged, picking up his phone to call Samuel. It was about time he went to get Dean anyway.


End file.
